Oceans and Limestone.

I stared out at the crystalline ocean. Waves of everything hit me, harder than the pounding tides against the salt-ridden alcoves. I swayed, but mostly I stood still, apathetic to the children and beach-goes around me.
“Love?” I was startled by an old woman, crinkled and creased, lathering up sun block. She had a concerned look on her face, and I must have seemed like some strange girl to her.
“Mmm?” I replied in surprise. I’d forgotten other people talk too.
“Are you okay?” She smiled at me. I was touched by her kindness.
“Oh, sure.” I smiled. “Just staring out at the sea.”
“Contemplating?” She turned her head, to look out at the point I was staring at.
“Oh, a little bit.” A small smile escaped my lips.
“What do you have to contemplate? You are young.” She was still smiling kindly at me, and she let out a chuckle. “I’ve done all that, in my years. I’ve looked out at that ocean, waiting for my husband to come back for the wars. I’ve cried at the ocean as it swept my sisters away. I’ve considered jumping in the blue and never coming out.” I turned to look at her; she was still looking out at sea. “I don’t bother with that anymore anyways. I just like to look at the pretty waves and the seagulls catching their daily meals.” And she shuffled off.